


To Have and to Hold

by Hanatamago



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Background Hapistance, Balthuri Week 2020, Established Relationship, Fluff, It's to make up for my Battle day piece, M/M, Makeup, Post-War, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:28:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25692823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hanatamago/pseuds/Hanatamago
Summary: Balthus and Yuri finally make it to Nuvelle territory for an auspicious wedding. After a long journey and no small amount of revelry the night before, they’d like nothing more than to sleep in. But when the morning comes, Balthus finds that he doesn’t mind waking up all that much - not if it’s to the sight of Yuri prettying himself up in the morning.Or, Balthus is mystified by makeup and self-care.Balthuri Week 2020 - Day 2: Rain/Makeup
Relationships: Balthazar von Adalbrecht | Balthus von Albrecht/Yuris Leclair | Yuri Leclerc
Comments: 9
Kudos: 48
Collections: Balthuri Week





	To Have and to Hold

The journey to the vast, beachy, sparklin’ new territory or Nuvelle was _awful_. It was long, tiring, and rainy as shit, but there wasn’t a chance in hell Balthus and Yuri were gonna miss out on Constance and Hapi’s big wedding bash! Can’t turn down free food, yeah?

Well, truth is, Balthus has got more reason to stick around than just the grub. All things considered, they’re basically family, so of course he’s gotta show up and cheer ‘em on. Or, uh, do whatever it is you’re supposed to do at weddings. Constance will _definitely_ let him know if he’s fuckin’ it up. Probably.

Still, he’ll be glad for a day of rest before the whole thing gets going. The rehearsal dinner went well enough, but he’s still not sure exactly what they were supposed to be rehearsing… Just seemed like a normal—if fancy—dinner. But it was good to see some old faces. Great, really. Lots of people had changed since the war. 

Smiles aren’t so rare these days. There’s no crushing weight of mortality on ‘em anymore. When he invites folks out to drink, there’s no cold undercurrent of ‘if we survive ‘till the next night out, that is’. But bloody as the war was, most of the good folks survived. The Professor spared anyone that would surrender, and it turns out, when a guy is surrounded by a bunch of their friends from the academy, they _will_ surrender—about eight times out of ten.

On rare days, Balthus gets stuck thinking about the ones who wouldn’t back down. But he tries not to. He tries to remember that for every friend slain, two more joined up. They did all they could. He did all he could.

And hey, they’re here now, ready to celebrate! Linhardt is still takin’ as many naps as ever, but apparently, he’s made good progress on the magicky Crest stuff he’s so taken with. Sure, Balthus zoned out when he got going last night, but Constance and Hapi seemed pretty into it. Ashe came bearing nice books and even nicer spices. Foreign stuff with these thin, dried red peppers that give even _Balthus_ a run for his money. Kinda reminded him of home, actually… He was curious as to where Ashe even got the stuff until Dedue popped up outta the kitchen. Man’s got great taste, yeah?

Heh, well. After dinner, they passed the night with plenty of stories over plenty of ale. In a way, it felt just like old times, only better. All the comradery of war, but none of the dread takin’ up space in their hearts. Still, nice as it was to catch up with all of the folks, it was even nicer to retire afterward and sink into a nice, warm bath with Yuri to wash off all the wear of two weeks’ travel. Nice to fall asleep with him, too.

Warm, golden light trickles through the windows, eventually stirring Balthus from his sleepy thoughts. Heh, shit. By the looks of it, it’s almost midday. But hey, everyone probably stayed up a little too late last night, and the mattresses are soft as hell! Castle Nuvelle is a pretty cushy joint! Constance must have spent a fortune on the sheets alone—or more likely, she conjured them out of some old, moth-bitten blankets with a crazy charm of hers. 

The woman can turn boots into licorice, surely half of the stuff in this place must be transmuted. Which is why Balthus didn’t feel too bad getting the towels all dirty. Not ‘cause he’s a brute. Totally not.

Regardless, it’s a nice place. Hapi’s gotta be pretty stoked about the digs too. It’s a far cry better than their dorms in Abyss. Yuri did all he could, but no way he’s gonna compete with a literal castle, right? So it’s definitely an upgrade compared to their tiny rooms in the tunnels with stagnant air, buried so far below the monastery that it’s a trek just to see sunlight. It’s nicer than all the rough, crumbling stonework, and there’s no chance someone brawlin’ in the halls is gonna wake you up in the middle of the night in here.

But Abyss is home. It’s _their_ home, because Balthus and Yuri chose to stay, and even the softest magic sheets ain’t got shit on that. Yuri replaced the cramped bunk with a real bed, and Balthus fixed up the classroom for some of the kids. Smugglers and traders alike bring in fresh food and goods to sell. These days, the inn hosts odd folk from all over the continent, and sometimes even beyond.

It’s not a boring, steady life, not by any means. Some moons, he’s gotta run off to Kupala to check on things, and Yuri’s got his own thing goin’ on too with peacekeeping between the gangs. So it’s less of a castle—Abyss—and more of a sanctuary. They come and go, untethered, but every night he can manage, he’ll settle down beside Yuri in bed, and that’s far more than enough. Maybe it’s not a fairytale ending, but it’s a good life.

Hapi and Constance can have all the fancy castle weddings they like (well, hopefully, they’re only planning on the one, but that’s not the point), he’d stay by Yuri’s side come rain or sun or fuckin’ continental war, and that’s enough! It’s enough to wake up to Yuri already out of bed, already sittin’ at the vanity doing whatever the fuck he does to look like a bombshell every day. 

Not that he isn’t pretty as hell when he’s bare-faced, ‘cause he is. Even with sleep still ruffling his hair, skin still clear of any colored paints and shimmer, he’s downright _gorgeous_. And maybe that’s not even so odd, because it’s a whole different thing. Seeing Yuri fresh out of bed is something way, way different than seeing him at night when he’s turning the charm on for real. Sure, he’s sexy as hell like that, but he’s just _perfect_ like this.

He’s all warm and fluttery-looking now. Not shy, but coy enough that he makes Balthus’s heart skip a few beats here and there. Yuri fully bare is a view that he’ll never get used to, and even if he does, it’ll still be breathtaking every time. But there’s something about the way his satin dressing gown just _nearly_ threatens to slip off his shoulder—something that hits real different—that’s got Balthus hooked in a whole other way.

When Yuri stretches out his arms and gazes towards the window, the fluffy feathers (Yuri has told him what kind, but Balthus files that type of information away in the ‘Classy Shit I Don’t Need to Know’ box) rustle on his sleeves and fall to his elbows, baring his forearms—his damned _forearms_ , and Balthus can’t pull his eyes away. Sothis, what a tease...

“Oh, just get the hell over here,” Yuri calls from the vanity without so much as looking in his direction.

“What?” Balthus laughs, a drowsy grin spreading across his face, “Somethin’ I said?”

“You’re staring, friend,” Yuri teases in a singsong tone, “If you’re going to gawk at me, best get a better seat, yeah?”

“You say that like it’s unreasonable to gawk.”

“You are a _wholly_ unreasonable man.”

“Maybe,” he winks, “but if you saw what I see, I think you’d stare too.”

Balthus rises from the bed with a slow, _totally_ not calculated flex. Not that he’s really tryin’ to be subtle about it. And not that Yuri’s even remotely subtle about the way his eyes track every one of Balthus’s movements through the mirror. Heh, and he ain’t even wrapped in a dressing gown, so it’s _all_ on display.

“Now who’s gawkin’, huh?”

It’s been a couple years since the war ended, but Balthus is still strong as the day Claude led them into their final battle. Yuri’s the same, of course. The underground life doesn’t give them any chance to slack off. Yeah, the stakes are lower these days. They fight bandits, not demonic beasts and trained Imperial soldiers, but it keeps them fresh. Neither of them has had the time or will to soften like their lordly pals. 

Heh, it sure pays off, though. Yuri can watch every corded bit of his muscles shift and tense as he walks over to the vanity and picks Yuri up, one-armed, before stealing his seat and plopping Yuri on his lap.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that?” Yuri huffs and tries to look skeptical like he doesn’t appreciate the casual show of strength.

But he does. He _super_ does, and Balthus _super_ knows it.

“Hey, you said to get a better seat, right?” Balthus grins and kisses him right on the cheek. “I’m just followin’ orders.”

Yuri simply rolls his eyes, refusing to dignify that with a response. Or he just doesn’t have one. He offered, yeah? Yuri turns back to the task at hand: brushing all the tangles out of his hair to get it all soft and silky again. It’s the first step of his morning ritual before he gets to all the precision work. Balthus can’t imagine doin’ all the pretty painting bits, but this part he could probably pull off. Heh, he brushes his own hair, so it can’t be that hard, right?

“Can I?”

Yuri quirks an eyebrow, glancing at him in the mirror’s reflection.

“I, uh…” Just the thought of trying to put his errant request into words is... Weird. Super weird. Balthus waves it off. “Nothin’, forget about it.”

“Use your words, Balthus. If you want something, just ask. You know I don’t mind.”

“Ah, it’s just…” Balthus blushes. Which is fine. Grown men blush and shit. “I was gonna ask if I could try brushing your hair.”

Yuri goes oddly quiet for a second. He’s not exactly staring in full-on, jaw-dropped astonishment, but he doesn’t answer instantly, which Balthus obviously takes to mean that yeah, it _is_ weird.

“But don’t worry about it, it’s cool. Totally cool,” Balthus blurts out, “I don’t wanna fuck up your routine or anything.”

“Nah, it’s fine.” Yuri hands him the brush with a fond, cryptic smile. “I’d tell you to go wild, but please don’t.”

“Uh… Yeah, gotcha. For sure,” Balthus nods, not quite sure what to make of the bright burst of pride in his chest. It’s not like it’s anything groundbreaking. He’s dressed Yuri’s worst wounds, he’s carried him through a field of flame and watched him nearly bleed out an unholy cathedral—this is a fuckin’ hairbrush. 

But hell if he doesn’t treat it like a goddamn Hero’s Relic. Balthus carefully pulls the boar bristle brush through Yuri’s hair, working out all the tangles. He’s always been aware of his own strength, but it’s a hundred times more pertinent now. He had never really been suited for precision work, what with his build and stiff, callused hands. Not like Yuri with his lockpicking and nice handwriting and pretty, delicate powders and perfumes...

It’s always been far too easy for Balthus to break things. It’s why he’s tried so hard with Yuri, it’s why he’s in a whole world of his own now, making sure he’s gentle as can be. Even the slightest tug feels like it’s all too harsh. Yuri trusts him, even with this. And Balthus really doesn’t wanna break that.

“It’s alright, Balthus. You’ll know if it hurts.”

“Sorry, I’m bein’ real weird, aren’t I?”

“Hm. Not weird.” Yuri grins like he’s in on some kind of secret. “Cute.”

“Heh, damn right I am.”

A while back, ‘cute’ might not have been the word he’d be aimin’ for, but he’ll take it. It’s only slightly less complimentary than ‘badass and fearsome’.

Soon enough—maybe too soon—Yuri’s hair is all tame and smooth again, free of any knots from the night before. Yuri pours a few drops of perfumed oil into his palm and warms it in his hands before massaging it through his hair. Rose and lavender—he only knows the flowers ‘cause of the parchment tag on the vial, but Goddess, it smells like the heavens. 

Well, it smells like Yuri to Balthus’s nose. Enough that when he’s gone, Balthus chases after the perfume lingering on the blankets, and when he returns, Balthus knows it even before he sees the candle burning in their chambers. Shit’s like that guy Linhardt was talking about with training wyverns to respond to a bell.

He’ll have to send a thank-you note to Lorenz for sending it over.

“You know, I think you might be the first man I’ve ever let brush my hair.” 

It doesn’t take a lot to catch the meaning behind his words. Balthus is the only guy allowed to enter his room whenever he pleases, the only guy Yuri chooses to wake up beside in the mornings. He’s the only one allowed to see Yuri… unfinished. ‘Imperfect’, Yuri would say, but he’d be damn wrong. 

“Well, they’re really missin’ out.”

“In fairness, most men never asked.”

“Guess I’m just not like most other guys, then, am I?” Balthus smirks. 

“No, I suppose you’re not,” Yuri says. “After all, most guys didn’t beg me to stay the night.”

“Hey, now…” Crimson shoots up into his cheek, and Yuri just cackles. Evil bastard.

“Really?” Yuri catches his breath, stifling his giggles for only a moment. “Really, Balthus? After everything we’ve been through, that’s what you’re embarrassed about? That you were whipped the very first time we fucked?”

“Wouldn’t say I was ‘whipped’...” Balthus grumbles. He was, but he can’t just _admit_ that. Not like he’s foolin’ Yuri anyhow, but it’s a _thing_ , yeah?

“You—” Yuri turns around in the chair, rising up on his knees so he can match Balthus’s height. “You are so full of shit, Balthus von Albrecht.”

Yuri breaks into another fit of giggles, peppering Balthus’s blazing cheeks in sweet, teasing kisses. And fine, _fine_ , Balthus can’t help but laugh along a bit.

“Alright, alright,” Balthus chuckles, “Maybe I was kinda whipped. In fairness, you’re a perfect ten.”

“Eleven, thank you,” Yuri winks. “And ‘kinda’?”

“Really pushin’ your luck, pal.”

Balthus wraps an arm around his hips, pulling him close, but Yuri’s certainly not backing down. Heh, cocky fuck. He just braces his arms on Balthus’s chest and leans in with a mischievous grin.

“Maybe I like to push you,” Yuri whispers.

“Dangerous game…” he whispers right back, ‘cause anything louder just wouldn’t fit with how close Yuri’s lips are hovering over his own.

Balthus might just have to make good on his threat, whatever the hell he’s threatening.

But alas, before he can dive in to kiss the smirk off his cute little face, Yuri wiggles out of his slackened grip and turns back to the vanity.

He digs through his bag and comes up with a few concoctions: a glass jar of smooth lotion, more perfumed oil, and tiny metal tins of colored pigments. He taps a bit of dusty pink powder off an old brush and cracks open the tin with purple stuff. This shit, Balthus knows he could never do right. Might like to try someday, but he’d make a royal mess of things, and that just won’t do for Constance’s big day before the super big day. He’s pretty sure she’d flip out and freeze Balthus into a sad, hunk-shaped icicle.

So for now, instead of fuckin’ with him, Balthus resigns himself to simply watching.

“It was before we fucked, y’know,” Balthus murmurs.

It’s not something he’s admitted before. ‘Cause, it feels like… Like he’s at a disadvantage. Like Yuri wasn’t really interested in him until he had a go with Balthus’s body. Or like Yuri never even looked at Balthus that way before he made a move on him. And hey—can’t fault him for that. Yuri cares about him far past his rockin’ bod now, but… Balthus wouldn’t hold it against him if it started that way. But it’s not the same for him.

The first time Balthus saw Yuri, the guy took his damn breath away. Sure, he’d swooned over dozens of gorgeous babes before, but Yuri wasn’t anything like them. He wasn’t anything like anyone at all. Every day, Balthus found another thing to love about him. The way he fought, the way he drank and swore with the best of ‘em, the way he always seemed to have a trick up his sleeve, especially when it mattered most. The way he ran the whole of Abyss without breaking a sweat, and the way Balthus knew in an instant that he could trust Yuri with his life.

And one day, Balthus woke up and realized he had gone and fallen for the guy, and real fuckin’ hard. They were pals and all back then, but…

Yuri sets down his brush and takes Balthus’s hand in his own, lacing their fingers together.

“I know. And I felt the same…” Yuri pauses.

“You don’t have to say anything. Even if you didn’t, I wouldn’t—”

“No, I… It’s worth talking about, yeah? Especially if it’s been on your mind.” Yuri frowns, “Back then, I just… I wasn’t sure what kind of man you really were, Balthus. It was difficult for me to imagine that you wanted more of me than just…”

“I did. Always did.”

“I know that now,” he smiles and pokes at Balthus’s cheek. “And now you know too. Overthinking doesn’t suit you, friend.”

Yuri drops his hand to go back to his makeup, but the giddy feeling in Balthus’s chest doesn’t fade so quickly. He hums happily and goes back to watching Yuri work his magic. To think, he was missing out on all this during the war… He gladly would’ve carted Yuri’s vanity into his room if he’d known.

Yuri sweeps a soft mauve color across each eyelid, painting them in subtle pink, then layers of purple. There’s a lot more to it than that, but between two brushes and three colors, it’s far too much for Balthus to comprehend. Every motion is so delicate—so meticulous—it’s little wonder Yuri looks so alluring all the damn time.

He’s an expert. In a lot of things, actually. Yuri is a master of the sword, and doubly so of tactics. He’s no Lysithea, but his dark magic is precisely aimed to target an enemy’s weak spots, and his faith magic is pretty damn good in a pinch. He’s good with all the social things that Balthus never bothered to learn, and that extends to being gorgeous and charming, too. Of course, even with a ton of study and practice, Balthus could probably never measure up to his beauty.

Yuri pulls his silky robe down, baring his perfect, sculpted shoulders. Uneven red patches bloom along his neck, which is Balthus’s fault, though he doesn’t feel the least bit guilty.

“Look at the mess you made,” he hums, like it’s all sweet and innocent, and not perfectly aimed towards the mushy parts of Balthus’s heart. “I mean, _really_ , Balthus... I was planning on wearing a low neckline today. So much for that.”

“Can’t help it, you’re too sweet.” Balthus winks. Yeah, he’s charming, and he knows it.

“You don’t even have a sweet tooth, dumbass.” Yuri huffs out a laugh and digs into his bag again, pulling out a larger tin of pale powder. He scoops up a bit of the cream and rubs it over the marks.

“You know how much of this shit I went through during the war?” Yuri asks.

“Too much, probably.”

“Way too damn much. Tried to look like a respectable tactician even after you fucked the living daylights out of me the night before. You were a real animal, you know that?” He dips his brush into the pale powder and pats it onto his neck. Takes a few goes before the powder really starts to cover up the marks, but it gets there.

“You loved it though,” Balthus says. 

“Maybe,” he hums. And it’s a complete concession, quiet as it is. Not like Balthus ever doubted it, but it’s always nice to know you’re appreciated, yeah?

“I never knew. You always looked so put together, y’know? Always thought I just didn’t wreck ya good enough to put you out of commission.”

“Hm, well, some of us had to go to the morning strategy meetings.” Yuri leans back to kiss his cheek.

“Oh, I remember well enough. You’d always sneak out of my bed, be gone come daybreak.”

“I couldn’t stay—”

“You wanted to.”

“—even _if_ I wanted to.”

“You wanted to,” he repeats, “Can’t fool me, Yuri. Well, I’m sure ya can, but not on this one.”

“Oh, and how do you know, oh wise Balthus?” Yuri smirks, “Tell me, what makes you think I would’ve rather stayed in a dusty old room that constantly smelled like mineral oil?”

“Hey, don’t knock a guy for trying to keep his gear polished!” he grins. 

“I mean, _Dimitri’s_ old room, really?”

“You’d have rather stayed down in Abyss? Make the trek up every morning?” Balthus teased, “I know you wanted to, because I _know_ you. You slept better with me.”

“Ridiculous,” he scoffs, but it’s not even half convincing. And hey, not like he’s really got his heart in keeping up any facades these days. Not with Balthus.

“Is it? You were pretty clingy,” Balthus smirks. “Not that I minded, ‘course.”

Yuri rolls his eyes.

“Can’t lie to me, birdie. You liked it when I held you, or you woulda left before settling down with me for the night.”

“You were warm, the monastery was cold, walking seemed like too much effort. Don’t let it go to your head, yeah?”

“You sure that’s it?” Heh, look, Balthus has finally got the upper hand, so yeah, he’s gonna take the chance to poke at Yuri’s shell a little. He’s gotta take the wins where he can get ‘em. 

He goes on. “I think you liked havin’ someone at your side. Someone to keep you safe and snug all through the night. Someone you could trust. Maybe just someone between you and the door if an assassin came in.”

“Heh, I never needed your protection, friend.”

“Maybe not, but it’s better to have than have not, yeah?”

“Maybe,” Yuri concedes. He smiles. Just a tiny little whisper of a grin, but it’s dazzlingly genuine, and it means that for once, he’s got Yuri pinned down.

But, of course, before Balthus can put any clever words together, he’s interrupted by a knock at the door.

“Yo, Yuri-bird, B, you dying in there?” Hapi calls, muffled by the oak panel between them, “Coco says it’s brunchtime.”

“We’ll be there in just a moment, Hapi,” Yuri says, “I’m afraid Balthus is utterly set on distracting me. Ah, not what you think, mind you.”

“Gross.”

Balthus can nearly see her scrunching up her nose from the other side of the door.

“Morning, Hapi,” Balthus adds.

“You do you, but if you’re late, I’m eating all the sausage, kay?”

“Ah, shit, we gotta get goin’ then!” Balthus says.

“Better get dressed then, Adonis,” Yuri murmurs, climbing out of the chair to free Balthus, “I’ve got a few things to finish up. Go on ahead of me, yeah? Save me a tart?”

Balthus shrugs on a light, loose tunic and simple linen breeches. Nothing as tailored as their formalwear for later in the evening, but he wears it well, or Yuri certainly seems to think so. Even now, Balthus finds his lilac eyes flickering over his form, clearly pleased.

“I’ll see if they have any strawberry ones.”

“Have I told you lately that you’re perfect?” Yuri laughs and pulls him down for a quick peck on the cheek.

“Maybe,” Balthus grins, “but I’m not one to turn down extra praise.”

* * *

Perhaps it’s a bit of loss that Balthus has to walk around fully clothed these days, but Constance wouldn’t have any less. When he’s finally decent, Balthus slips out the door and makes his way down to the dining room. Yuri turns back to his vanity, brushing on the last bits of powder here and there. No way to perfectly hide their ‘activities’ last night, but hey—it was the first real bed they’d seen in weeks.

Yuri dares to wear the low neckline today. Not like they wouldn’t have known anyway.

One last thing. He clears a bit of space on the vanity and produces a small sheet of parchment from his bag. Inkwell, check. Owl feather, check. Then finally, Yuri starts on the letter he’s been putting off for moons.

_Dear mom,_

_Apologies for the recent silence. I know my letters these days are few and far between. Such is travel. I’m writing to you from the new Castle Nuvelle. Nice place. One day, I’ll have to bring you by. And no, it’s not a hassle, so no weaseling your way out of a vacation. Constance won’t mind a bit. _

_We’re a few days’ ride out from Gwythn. I’ll stop by soon. There’s someone I want you to meet._

**Author's Note:**

> As a treat, they can be happy and together just this once! :)
> 
> See you all on Day 6 :D
> 
> Come say hi on Twitter :)  
> [@hanatamagos](https://twitter.com/hanatamagos)


End file.
